


The Ways You Said "I Love You"

by Mel_S_Bancroft



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball, Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis, 一週間フレンズ。 | Isshuukan Friends. | One Week Friends, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: Gen, M/M, Tumblr Prompts, i wrote the kunioda back when i mistakenly thought oda was taller than kunikida
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:47:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6652948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_S_Bancroft/pseuds/Mel_S_Bancroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for trash-by-vouge's 'The way you said "I love you."' prompts on tumblr. Each chapter is marked with the pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. shirayuki

**Author's Note:**

> There are [35 total prompts](http://trash-by-vouge.tumblr.com/post/132858041745/the-way-you-said-i-love-you), but I don't know how many (or which ones) I'll write or how many I'll write multiple times, but I decided that I'd like to keep them all in the same place regardless of pairing/fandom, and I'll be uploading them as I write them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> before we jumped

Seiichi shuffled forward and peered with trepidation over the grassy lip of the cliff into the calm, clear water below. “I love you and all, but if we don’t survive this, I’m gonna kill you for getting me to trust you.” He pursed his lips into a frown, considering. “Actually, no, scratch that, I’m not jumping,” he said, shaking his head as he backed away from the edge.

Warm laugh bubbling up from his throat, Kuranosuke took his lover’s hand and guided him gently a few paces back until they stood side-by-side. “I’m not sure that’s how it works, love,” he grinned good-humoredly at Seiichi, who looked very unimpressed, to say the least. He took a ready stance, then dashed forward with the only warning a squeeze of the hand, leaving Seiichi half-scrambling in surprise as they leaped. As their feet left the ground, Kuranosuke shouted, “It’ll be fine!” over the rush of exhilaration.

They hit the water with a great splash. Kuranosuke surfaced laughing elatedly; Seiichi came up beside him a moment later, sputtering.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Kuranosuke grinned.

Seiichi glared at him from under his soaked fringe plastered to his forehead, looking for all the world like a waterlogged cat. “If you try that again, I am _pushing you off.”_

The brunet merely chuckled, humming his acceptance, as he reached out and brushed his lover’s hair out of his face. “At least you don’t have to kill me anymore.”

“Mm, yes, that’s one good thing at least,” he conceded, the corners of his lips curving upward.


	2. shirayuki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when baking chocolate chip cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after what feels like forever, I manage to finish something for shirayuki

As he rolled a bit of dough between his fingers into a ball, a hand snaked out from behind Seiichi to reach for one of the cookies-to-be already sitting neatly on the pan.

“If you get sick from that, I’m not taking care of you,” he warned without taking his eyes off his work.

The hand paused, hovering above its prey. Seiichi glanced out of the corner of his eye at his lover, who was gazing at him dolefully. With a sigh, Kuranosuke hung his head and retracted his hand.

“Rude, Seiichi,” he whined without any seriousness to it, wrapping both arms around his boyfriend’s waist and fitting his chin over his shoulder. “Is that something you say to the love of your life?”

Seiichi snorted. “It is when he knows better than to eat anything with raw eggs in it,” he drawled, lips quirking upward.

His lover hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck before releasing him. A moment later he heard first the silverware drawer and then the fridge open and close. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Kuranosuke prying open a container of ice cream, a spoon hanging out of his mouth.

“Whah,” he said around the spoon, eyes wide in feigned innocence. “Ah nee mah chokeh chih coo-ee doh.”

Seiichi raised an eyebrow at him in amusement, and Kuranosuke set the lid on the counter behind him, removing the spoon from his mouth with a quiet pop.

“I need my chocolate chip cookie dough,” he repeated with a plaintive note to his voice.

Unsuccessfully biting back a grin, Seiichi nodded and turned back to his cookie-making. “Weirdo.”

“You love me anyway.”

“I do.”


	3. shouyuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as we huddle together, the storm raging outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two of these that I'm writing for kunikidazai, and what do I do? Write one for this pairing that literally no one but me ships. (I sort of wrote this fic at one in the morning and I did what I could to edit it after I went to sleep, but I still don't know how good this is. Probably not very. It's not my best work, at least.)
> 
> Update: This is currently being rewritten, but who knows how long it'll take.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Shougo froze almost imperceptibly, his grip on the manga he was reading tightening minutely. If Yuuki wasn’t so attuned to him, he would never have noticed.

“Right, I forgot you actually hated storms,” he said, stretching as he rose from his still half-finished homework.

“They’re fine.”

Yuuki padded over to his side and plopped down next to him. “Is that why you’ve been on that page for the past five minutes?” he teased lightly.

Huffing quietly, Shougo turned the page then but said nothing. Yuuki grinned and scooted closer, bracing one hand behind the blond’s back and resting his head on his shoulder. Once he finished reading, he reached out and, receiving a small nod from Shougo, turned to the next page. He let his hand fall to the floor by their knees until it was time to turn the page again.

Slowly Shougo relaxed, and soon enough, his only reaction to the thunder outside was to take an extra second or two to read whichever speech bubble he was on at the time. “Thanks,” he said after they’d gotten through half the volume together.

Yuuki smiled. “It’s no problem, Shougo,” he said, craning his head up to look at him.

A tiny smile curved Shougo’s lips. “Hase.”

“Hm?”

He ducked his head, lowering the manga to his lap. Softly, he said, “I love you.”

Yuuki blinked a few times, flushing pink. He could barely be sure if he had heard correctly over the pattering of the rain outside his window, but the way that Shougo had frozen and barely dared to breathe as if there’d just been a loud peal of thunder even though they hadn’t heard any for the past few minutes told him everything. He ducked his head as well, bringing his hand up to clutch at Shougo’s shirt. “M-Me too.”

With a shaky exhale, Shougo released the breath he’d been holding in, and his shoulders sagged slightly in relief. Yuuki shifted to lean more comfortably against him, grinning soppily through the fuzziness in his chest.


	4. kunikidazai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> over a beer bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have little actual experience with alcohol or drunk people. I've never had any alcohol, and I've only had to deal with my mother pretending to be drunk/tipsy at restaurants in order to embarrass me (and herself, tbh). So. Hopefully my depiction of a drunk Dazai is believable.
> 
> At any rate, this took a lot longer than I would have liked to write, and I'm still not entirely sure about it (but then again, when am I ever?)

“Yooooooo, Kunikida-kun!”

Sighing, Kunikida hung his head for a moment before straightening and looking to Dazai, who clambered onto the stool next to him, a beer bottle in hand. “I thought you were with the others,” he said, glancing behind them to the table where the rest of the Armed Detective Agency were still sitting and eating, just as rowdy as ever. He envied Fukuzawa’s ability to put up with them for as long as he always did.

“But you looked so lonely sitting over here all alone!”

No. He had moved over here nearly an hour ago of his own volition and was perfectly content to sit over here away from the others—away from _him_ —and he most certainly wasn’t lonely. He opened his mouth to tell him as much when he was abruptly cut off.

“Anyway, bartender, get this guy one of these!”

Kunikida quickly held up a hand to the bartender with a shake of his head. “I’m good.” The man nodded and continued down to the other end of the bar where someone else was calling for another beer. Then, turning back to his colleague: “How much have you even had to drink anyway?”

Dazai showed him one finger, then four, then what might have been two and a half, then pursed his lips and frowned as he pulled his hand in and independently flexed his fingers repeatedly, studying them intently.

“In other words, too many,” he sighed, putting a hand to his head.

Dazai blinked at him, then his eyes widened a bit and he snatched Kunikida’s glass from in front of him before he had a chance to react. “Ooh, whadja get?” Taking a sip, he narrowed his eyes and pushed the glass away. “Tastes weird.”

“It’s _water_ ,” he said irritatedly, snatching back his drink with a scowl. He glared daggers at the glass and its contents while he tried to determine whether he was actually petty enough not to drink from it because it would mean sharing an indirect kiss with _that guy_ or not.

“Kunikida-kun.” Much of his irritation was put behind him as he blinked, then turned to Dazai. The man was leaning forward over the bottle he now clutched in both hands, his head canted sideways, a rather dopey smile on his face. “I love you.”

“O-Oi… How much have you really…” he began, a flush creeping its way up the back of his neck.

Giggling, Dazai slumped sideways to rest his head on Kunikida’s shoulder, and Kunikida shot out a hand to steady him, clutching tightly at his arm. The man tilted his head up and strained closer while Kunikida strained away in response and clamped his free hand over Dazai’s mouth before he could try anything. The devious glint in his eyes was all the warning he got before the brunet licked his palm; he jerked his hand back as if burned—his cheeks certainly felt as if they were now—and wiped it hurriedly off on his pants. Dazai dissolved into laughter then, burying his face into the fabric of his shirt.

Not entirely ungently he pushed the man off of him enough to stand from his seat, then coaxed Dazai down from his own stool with more ease than he had expected. “Come on,” he said, guiding him to the restaurant’s entrance. “We’re getting you home.”

As soon as they stepped out into the chill night air, Dazai extricated himself from his grip and sped ahead a few paces, his arms outstretched like a child pretending to be an airplane, his gait a little unsteady and stumbling. There weren’t too many people on the sidewalk, so for now, Kunikida was content to allow him to do as he wished.

He watched bemusedly as Dazai meandered down the sidewalk, sometimes spinning in circles—slow enough that he didn’t trip over his own feet, though it was a close thing at times—and grinning elatedly at how his trench coat swirled around his legs as he did so. Partway down the street that led to the Agency dorms, Dazai suddenly stopped mid-turn and faced him. “Carry me.”

“No,” he said flatly and without hesitation. Drunk or not, the bastard was walking himself.

“I’m not moving unless you carry me,” Dazai said petulantly as Kunikida drew even with him.

When the man didn’t move even when he passed him, he clicked his tongue and grabbed his arm, prepared to bodily drag him back to the dorm if he had to; Dazai dug in his heels and stubbornly refused to budge. “Why must you be so difficult?” he groused. Unwillingly he hefted Dazai over his shoulder in an easy approximation of a fireman’s carry, and almost immediately the man relaxed, content to be carried like a sack of potatoes.

And as well he should be, Kunikida thought, because without specifying how he’d wanted to be carried, he had no right to complain.

A few minutes passed calmly before Dazai started squirming like he wanted him to drop him on his head, dashing Kunikida’s hopes of getting him back to the dorms without any further incident. He clamped his free hand over Dazai’s legs to still them. “Be _still_ , dammit, or do you _want_ me to drop you?”

Though he didn’t stop moving completely, his incessant squirming did die down to a minimum, but Kunikida could still feel him straining further down his back. He decided to ignore it, knowing that it would be easier to get him home if he left the idiot alone, but that all went down the drain when he felt a hand firmly grab his ass.

He did end up dropping Dazai—though in a much more controlled manner than the term “drop” usually entailed, a manner in which he quickly bent down to deposit the man rather unsteadily on his feet, then jumped back a few paces and gazed at him warily with wide-blown eyes, hands hovering protectively over his backside. “Wh-What was that!” he spluttered indignantly.

Swaying lightly, Dazai smiled at him innocently, if rather soppily. “Kunikida-kun has a nice ass,” he hummed simply, obviously pleased with himself.

He spluttered some more; Dazai blinked at him curiously. Reluctantly he slowly lowered his guard, and with a sigh he dropped his arms to his sides as he trudged over and turned around, dropping into a crouch and extending his arms out behind him. When it elicited no reaction from Dazai past a small sound of confusion, he huffed out a short breath in annoyance. “I’m saying I’ll carry you home on my back! It’s either that or you walk.”

Barely a moment later, Kunikida almost pitched forward as Dazai collapsed heavily onto his back all at once, draping his arms loosely around Kunikida’s neck. The blond curled his fingers around his colleague’s thighs, hefting him more solidly onto his back, and stood carefully. He only staggered momentarily under the added weight, and after the first slow step he found his balance. Dazai tightened his grip around his neck, winding his fingers around his forearms near the crook of his elbows, and shifted closer, lips brushing briefly against the side of Kunikida’s neck as he settled. Kunikida suppressed a shiver, studiously ignoring the way that the man’s breath gusted warm and not entirely unpleasant over his skin.

He wasn’t petty enough. Embarrassed, maybe, definitely of his crush on Dazai that he had no idea what to do with. But never petty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Update: 19 Apr 18] Y’know, now that I’m thinking about this again, I’m pretty sure Dazai was pretending to be more drunk than he was. He wanted somma that Kunikidass. Valid af


	5. shouyuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when we lay together on the fresh spring grass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this one better than the first one I wrote for this pairing; that one seemed too fast-paced. I do still worry though whether I'm writing Yuuki correctly. I'm the complete opposite of a bubbly person, so it's hard for me to write bubbly personalities. Yeah, I do relate to him because of his nervousness and his tendency to think overmuch, but I think there are more reasons why I can't relate to him than reasons why I do. I'm more like Shougo, which is probably why it's easier for me to write from his POV.

Yuuki loped down the stairs to the riverside, slowing and sliding his bag off of his shoulder as he neared the grass at the bottom. Shougo followed after at a much more leisurely pace, his hands in his pockets, and he watched with amusement as Yuuki collapsed backwards into the grass as he himself sat down on the bottom step.

“You look happy,” he commented dryly.

Yuuki tilted his head back and grinned up at him. “Of course! Exams are finally over with.”

“Until we have to do it all over again next semester.”

He waved it off. “Yeah, but that’s next semester.” Absently he let his arm fall back as he stared almost contemplatively up at the blue sky and the wispy clouds moving slowly past. “I can’t believe we’re gonna be third years,” he sighed wistfully after a few moments.

Shougo shrugged, though he knew his friend couldn’t see it. He figured it didn’t matter though; Yuuki seemed always to be able to interpret his silences.

Whilst Yuuki watched the clouds, Shougo watched the river and the rolling waves in the tall green grass on the banks. A few minutes passed like this in comfortable near-silence, the only sounds those of the wind and birds and the subdued noises of the people passing by at the top of the hill.

“Hey, Shougo.” Shougo’s eyes flicked back to Yuuki, who pulled his arms in to clasp his hands over his stomach, his own gaze not leaving the sky. “I think…” He swallowed visibly, seeming to struggle with the words as his brows pulled downward somewhat. He took a deep breath and blew it out before continuing. “I think I might be in love with you.”

Shougo blinked, surprised; Yuuki blanched and quickly waved his hands in front of him as if to erase his words. “Sorry, you can forget what I just said, I know it’s probably weird—”

“It’s not.”

“Eh?” Wide brown eyes blinked up at him.

“It’s not weird.”

Yuuki scrambled to roll over, propping himself up with his hands, his legs folded under him. “You don’t mind?” he asked, half-breathless, the words spilling over each other as they tumbled from his mouth.

“I definitely don’t mind.” His face felt warm, but he knew from experience that he still had time before he actually started to color. He figured he had about two minutes at most to either get out of here or change the subject, or—

“Can I kiss you?”

Scratch that. He had no time.

Rather than answer, he knelt down in front of Yuuki, bracing his weight on his right hand while with his left he gently brushed Yuuki’s wind-mussed hair behind his ear and fitted his palm against his cheek. He was surprisingly calm now, considering how his heart felt ready to beat out of the cage of his chest. The brunet blinked a few times, his breath catching slightly as Shougo leaned forward to brush their lips together in a short, chaste kiss.

He retreated barely a moment later, rocking back to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest, hiding his face in his arms which he crossed over his knees. He heard Yuuki scoot closer over the grass.

“Wai—That’s not fair, Shougo!” he whined, drawing out the syllables of his name in the way that Shougo was weak to, and clutched at the blond’s arm.

Shougo shrugged, though it was half-hearted.

“That was hardly even a kiss!”

He attempted to shrink into himself, determined to keep his flushed embarrassment hidden, but still he easily complied when Yuuki placed his fingers on either side of his jaw and gently lifted his head. The brunet was just as red as he felt, and his eyes were blown wide on nervousness and uncertainty, but determined. He cupped Shougo’s jaw and leaned in, close enough that their noses nearly bumped and Shougo could almost feel his breath ghost over his skin, and froze.

“Ah,” he said. Blinked, flushed a shade darker. “Um. I—I haven’t—I’ve never—”

Shougo tipped his head up with a small huff—amusement, maybe a little annoyance; or impatience, an equivalent of a quick roll of his eyes almost too small to catch—to catch at Yuuki’s lips and cut off his nervous stuttering. Lashes fluttering closed, Yuuki breathed out a soft sigh and pressed closer. When Shougo pulled back a moment later, Yuuki beamed down at him, bright and happy and sunny and infectious, and Shougo felt the corners of his lips curve upwards in response.

He stood then, gathering up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder before shoving his hands in his pockets, and turned to head back up the stairs. Behind him he heard Yuuki push up to his feet and snatch up his bag as well.

“Ah, Shougo, wait up!”

He paused mid-step and glanced over his shoulder at him, and the brunet rushed up the stairs to meet him, grinning and bright-eyed and flushed pink no longer on self-consciousness but on happiness.


	6. kunikidazai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from very far away

“The case is finishing up now; just the last bit of paperwork is left. I should be home sometime this weekend.”

Dazai hummed, adjusting his hold on his cell to fit it more comfortably against his ear as he leaned back and drew his feet up onto the couch.

“I’ll be back Saturday afternoon at the earliest, though it shouldn’t be a problem since they aren’t slackers like _some_ people I know.”

He chuckled lightly. “I miss you too, Kunikida-kun,” he grinned.

“I…” Kunikida blew out a short exhale through his nose, the sound catching on static over the line. “Yeah.” He fell silent but for his soft breathing, and Dazai waited patiently for him to continue as he knew he would. “Dazai.”

“Yes, Kunikida-kun?”

Kunikida didn’t answer immediately, and when he closed his eyes Dazai could see his frown, his pursed lips as he struggled with himself to push the words past his self-consciousness. He was blushing now and endearingly embarrassed, Dazai could hear it in the little huff, almost inaudible but definitely there even just for that Dazai knew it would be, and Dazai let his smile spread a little wider and softer, even before he heard Kunikida inhale in preparation to speak.

“I love you,” he said at last, his voice dipping on the soft of affection that he rarely showed with anyone else.

“I love you too.”


	7. kiyohyuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> with no space left between us

A sharp knock on the doorframe startled Hyuuga out of his concentration as he worked on homework at his desk. He twisted around in his chair and blinked in surprise when he saw Kiyoshi standing in the doorway wearing his usual soppy smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“Your mother let me in,” he replied simply, unfazed by the blunt demand, smile adopting innocence as he pretended that he didn’t know exactly what Hyuuga was talking about, and strode into the room as Hyuuga rose from his seat.

“No—I thought you were supposed to be in America for another week,” he said.

“I finished early,” Kiyoshi shrugged. “I didn’t say anything because I wanted to surprise you.”

Kiyoshi stopped in front of him then, expression melted into a gentle fondness, and raised his hands to take Hyuuga’s head gently between them. Hyuuga stuttered slightly back on instinct, he wasn’t expecting any of this, but he didn’t make it far between the desk directly behind him that he’d already been leaning against and Kiyoshi’s gaze and warmth and very presence drawing him in and holding him in place, just blinked and forgot how to breathe as Kiyoshi tipped his head up and leaned in. His eyes fluttered shut at the first press of lips against his own, his fingers curling around the edge of the desk on either side of him for lack of knowing what else to do with his hands.

“I love you, Hyuuga,” Kiyoshi murmured against his lips before pulling away and gazing fondly down at him.

Hyuuga’s breath caught, his heartbeat stuttering for a moment because it was different to hear it with Kiyoshi warm and real in front of him than it was with half the world and a cold screen between them, and he thought that he might never get used to this. “Me too,” he breathed, ignoring the flush steadily creeping its way up his neck, and fisted his hands into the front of Kiyoshi’s shirt to pull him down for another kiss.


	8. kunioda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on a sunny tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For whatever reason I was thinking about that one tumblr post about getting gayer every time you see a girl putting her hair up, and of course I was thinking about Kunikida because he is my current obsession and I will more likely than not be thinking about him at any given time, and I was reading a pure, adorable kiyoyachi fic that involved Kiyoko giving Yachi a hair tie, and that led me to think about how Kunikida has such long, beautiful hair, and how Oda would probably get gayer every time he sees him put up his hair because Kunikida is one Very Pretty Man and people tying their hair up is aaaaa, and that is basically how this fic came about. Basically my thought process is always A Mess, but this is really soft and domestic? I just really love kunioda, okay? I think they might even have beat out kunikidazai as my BSD OTP, although it might be a little early to tell for sure. But honestly it's such a Good and Pure ship and I just,,

“I think I get a little gayer every time I watch you put up your hair.”

Kunikida startled, a few locks of hair slipping down from where he was gathering it into a high ponytail. His lips parted involuntarily, and the hair tie he’d been holding between his lips fell to the ground as well. Flushing, he ducked down to retrieve it, quickly rising again and releasing his hold on his hair as he grimaced at the tie before slipping it onto his wrist.

Oda chuckled, his chest warm with fondness. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, shaking his head slightly as he reached back to start over the process of tying up his hair. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

Setting his notebook aside, Oda rose from his seat on the couch and walked over to stand behind his lover. “Do you mind if I do your hair?” he asked softly.

“Go ahead.”

Kunikida let his arms fall, fiddling distractedly with his hair tie as Oda began to brush his fingers through the long, silken strands, marveling at how the late afternoon sunlight shining through the window glowed in his hair like burnished gold. Once he’d brushed out the minor kinks, he gathered a section near the top of Kunikida’s head and began to plait it into a French braid.

“You braid so much better than me,” Kunikida commented after a few moments, his head bobbing back slightly every time Oda pulled the stitchings snug.

“Eh, it’s easier when you can see what you’re doing.”

“True,” he acceded.

“And when your daughter always begged you to braid her hair before she learned to do it herself,” he added. Reaching the end of the plait, he prompted: “Tie.”

Kunikida held the hair tie up between two fingers for Oda to take. “You still braid her hair sometimes, though.”

“Mm, I think she just feels sorry for me.”

Oda could tell by how Kunikida shook his head slightly that he was rolling his eyes; he smiled. “I doubt that.”

He hummed in assent. When he’d finished tying off the braid, he wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist and pulled him flush against himself, nuzzling a kiss to his hairline just behind his ear as Kunikida covered his hands with his own.

“Love you,” he murmured.

Kunikida tipped his head back to look at him and smiled. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does one even write people braiding hair...


	9. kunikidazai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as a whisper in the ear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in about an hour today while sick

Kunikida watched with furrowed brows as the waitress turned down yet another of Dazai’s advances-slash-suicide-proposals. It had happened often enough that Kunikida could hardly find it in himself to be more than merely mildly irritated half the time anymore, although he couldn’t help how his insides twisted at the thought of someone one day actually accepting that idiot’s offer.

“Oh, woe! I’ll never find a lovely lady to commit a beautiful double suicide with!” Dazai lamented, dramatically as usual, a hand clutching at his heart as he turned back to Kunikida after the waitress returned to her job.

He snorted, taking a sip of his coffee as his partner hunched over the table and sulkily nursed his own.

“Do you even like women?” he asked after a moment, carefully studying Dazai’s expression. “If you always ask them to commit suicide with you, you must either really like them or really not. You never ask men.”

A wry grin found its way onto Dazai’s lips as he sat up, leaning against the back of his seat. “Y’know, this is the second time someone’s asked me that.”

He blinked. “Who was the first?”

Fingers tightening minutely around the porcelain cup, Dazai tipped his head forward, his long bangs obscuring his eyes in shadow. It was a moment before he replied, his voice carrying with it a certain sorrow. “A dear friend of mine. A man too good for the corrupted world he lived in.”

Before Kunikida could think of something to say, some apology to let Dazai smile as his usual capricious self again because seeing him like this felt so inherently _wrong_ , the man lifted his head with a grin, his eyes glimmering with a lightness that almost seemed genuine. “Since you asked so nicely, Kunikida-kun, I’ll tell you the same thing I told him! I wouldn’t mind committing a double suicide with a man if he were as handsome as you. But not actually you, of course.”

He opened his mouth to reply, only to close it again. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that; on the one hand, he was pleased, because he didn’t want to commit suicide with anyone; but on the other hand, it almost felt like Dazai had insulted him again.

Something of it must have shown on his face, for Dazai raised his eyebrows at him, resting his chin on his hand. “Would you even accept if I asked you, Kunikida-kun?” he asked.

“No.”

He didn’t bother to point out that no one else he asked was ever likely to accept, either.

* * *

His fingers itched toward his phone lying next to him on the desk. Dazai hadn’t come in to work today, but he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Even so…

“Yo, Kunikida-kun!” Dazai greeted cheerily after the first ring.

“Dazai,” he said. “If I’m someone you won’t ask to commit suicide with you, am I someone for whose sake you won’t commit suicide?”

Dazai was silent for a while, and if it weren’t for the quiet sound of his breathing, Kunikida might have thought that he’d hung up. His lips parted on the shape of the other’s name, about to prompt him for some sort of _answer, dammit,_ but Dazai cut him off before he could. “I wonder.”

His partner hung up then, and he lowered his phone back down to his desk, distractedly turning off the screen as he did so. It hadn’t been the answer he’d been expecting, but…

He didn’t know what kind of answer he’d expected.

* * *

The lights were already on when he got home that evening. His hand strayed toward his gun as he crept toward the living room, but he relaxed upon seeing Dazai perched on the armrest of the couch, legs swinging aimlessly on their own momentum.

“How—”

“I planned on committing suicide today,” Dazai said easily, in the same manner as one commenting on the weather. “Had it all planned out, too; it was perfect.” Their eyes met, and Dazai softened slightly. “But then you called me just before I could try it. And I couldn’t.”

Hopping down from his perch, Dazai strode over to Kunikida and leaned his forehead against his shoulder. “I wasn’t lying,” he continued softly. “I don’t know if I can live for a person, but I’ll try. I want to try.”

Kunikida wrapped his arms around him carefully and, when Dazai didn’t move away or make to shake him off, held him close. He ducked his head, his lips close to Dazai’s ear as he whispered, “Dazai, I…”

“I know,” he said gently when Kunikida faltered, and returned his embrace.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I read an odazai fic a while back when there were only like five of them where Oda asked basically the same question as Kunikida did here, but I'm not entirely sure. Idk, it's been a while and my memory isn't exactly the most reliable. Anyway, that's the impression I have, so that's where that first part came from.
> 
> This now has [art](http://wishing-on-the-moon.tumblr.com/post/153365806959/i-wouldnt-mind-committing-a-double-suicide-with) to go with it. (That I made, but still.)


	10. kuniango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on a post-it note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd never expected to write kuniango. I'd just started thinking about the ship, most probably because of "A Familiar Face", and how cute it would be, and... yeah. This happened.

It was only as he was sitting down at his desk for lunch and was reaching for his bentou that Kunikida realized that he hadn’t made one that morning. He paused, hand hovering over the knot in the fabric at the top for a moment before grabbing it and sliding it toward him.

Unless he had? But no, he’d been running late, and he hadn’t had the time to make one as usual, yet still he’d grabbed this one on his way out. He’d have to thank Ango later.

When he untied the fabric and let it slip open, he found a sticky note stuck carefully to the top of the bentou box, a message scrawled on it with pen in Ango’s neat handwriting. He peeled it off, a smile curving unconsciously at his lips as he sat back in his chair to read it.

 _Good luck grading tests today. You can do it!_  
_Love you,_  
_Ango_

In the bottom corner he’d drawn a small doodle of himself with his glasses glinting and his fist clenched in determination, the word _Fight!_ written next to it.

Well, it didn’t _have_ to wait.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket and quickly typed out:

_Thanks for the bentou and message. It’s cute. Love you too_


	11. kuniango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> with no space left between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this and the previous kuniango as an AU for my AU that was set up in "A Familiar Face", because if I ever end up writing more for it like I'm planning to, kuniango isn't happening.
> 
> It gets sorta nsfw near the end.

Ango re-entered the café, slumping dejectedly back down in his seat and burying his head in his hands.

“Being a problem child again?” Kunikida asked gently.

“Yes,” he said. He sighed helplessly, raising his head and closing his laptop, gathering it under one arm as he stood. “I’m going to have to go over there or he won’t have anything by the deadline. Come with?”

Kunikida frowned sympathetically up at him. “Sorry.”

“I know,” he sighed. He leaned down to give Kunikida a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing his half-finished coffee. “Don’t wait for me for dinner, I’ll probably be picking something up at the conbini to eat something there again. But I’ll see you tonight.”

“Good luck.”

Ango smiled his thanks before turning to leave, and Kunikida returned to grading homework.

* * *

When he heard the lock click open, Kunikida turned down the volume on the TV and tipped his head back against the backrest of the couch to watch the doorway. A moment later, Ango came into view, looking harried and exhausted, his laptop held loosely against his chest in both arms.

“Hey,” he greeted his lover softly, holding out his hand in silent invitation.

Ango smiled faintly as he approached, setting his laptop down on the table next to the stack of graded papers and sliding onto Kunikida’s lap to straddle him. “Hey,” he returned.

Kunikida slipped a hand into Ango’s hair and drew him down into a slow kiss. His lover melted into him, humming in approval as Kunikida tugged Ango’s shirt free of his pants and slipped his hands underneath to trace mindless patterns on his skin. Ango sighed into his mouth as Kunikida drew his teeth over his bottom lip, biting down gently before releasing him.

“You should be my author,” he murmured as they parted, mouthing a kiss along Kunikida’s jaw, his hands straying up to start unbuttoning his lover’s shirt.

His lips quirked in amusement. “What’re you gonna do, publish math worksheets?” he teased lightly.

“I should,” Ango said, half-serious. Kunikida tipped his head to the side to bare his neck, hands sliding farther up Ango’s back as Ango began to kiss and suck down his neck to his chest. “I’d have to transfer publishers first, though.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said breathlessly.

Ango sat back to shrug out of his shirt, Kunikida helping him with the buttons. Without looking to see where it landed, he tossed it to the side in the general direction of the other side of the couch. He leaned in for another kiss, his hands splayed over his lover’s chest while Kunikida’s rested on Ango’s hips, thumb tracing lightly over the bare skin of his stomach as he reached for the button of his pants. “I love you,” he murmured against Kunikida’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am officially titling this: I'm way too ace for this shit.
> 
> (But not really. I still gotta think of an actual title for ffnet. God damn it.)


	12. kuniango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> too quick, mumbled into your scarf + in awe, the first time you realize it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has two prompts because when I started writing it, for whatever reason, my brain had combined the two into something like “muffled in your scarf, the first time you realize it” and I thought they were one prompt. So yeah. This is what happens when I don't look at the prompts because I think I already know what they are.
> 
> God, this ship is cute. How am I only just noticing this?

Kunikida’s eyes followed Ango as the man paced back and forth outside the café, gesturing animatedly while he talked on the phone.

“He’s going to go grey before any of us,” Oda commented.

Kunikida blinked quickly a few times, snapping out of his semi-spaced-out state and meeting the eyes of the man sitting across from him, who had an eyebrow raised in vague amusement that Kunikida couldn’t quite figure out. “Probably,” he said, grimacing in sympathy; as a high school math teacher, he’d be surprised if he didn’t go grey second.

Dazai sighed as he rested his head in his hand, gazing longingly across the table at the half-full cup of coffee probably lukewarm by now sitting next to Ango’s open laptop. “Do you think I can have Ango’s coffee?”

“Go buy your own,” Kunikida responded automatically.

“You were supposed to buy me one, Kunikida-kun!”

“You never ask for anything except for your sweets, how the hell am I supposed to know what you want!”

“You can have the rest of mine, Dazai,” Oda said placatingly, sliding his own half-finished coffee over to him.

Sitting up, Dazai leaned over to peer into the cup, giving it a tentative sniff. Seemingly satisfied with it, he happily accepted the offer. “See, Odasaku’s nice to me,” he said, taking a sip. “Why can’t you be, Kunikida-kun? Does our childhood romance mean nothing to you?”

He rolled his eyes, not deigning to grace that with a response. They’d been _five_ then; it hardly counted as a romance—and really, he could ask Dazai the same thing. His gaze flicked unconsciously up to the window once more, immediately seeking out Ango, who had stopped pacing and was nodding in dejected acceptance. A moment later he hung up with a sigh, slipping his phone into his pocket and heading back into the café.

“I’m going to have to go over there again,” he said by way of greeting once he’d reached the table, closing his laptop and slipping it under one arm.

“I’ll go with you,” Kunikida said as he rose from his seat, surprising himself.

Startled, Ango blinked up at him. “That’s really not necessary, but thank you. I’ll probably need all the help I can get.”

“Good luck,” Oda told them. Beside him, Dazai gave them a little wave as he finished off the rest of his drink.

“Thank you,” said Ango, and Kunikida nodded.

Kunikida shrugged into his coat while Ango picked up his coffee and grimaced a little when he took a sip, winding his scarf around his neck and the lower half of his face as he followed the man outside into the winter chill. Stuffing his hands into the pocket of his coat, he ducked his head to bury his nose further into the warmth of his scarf.

He didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings as they walked, just followed behind Ango as the man led him down the busy sidewalk, his eyes following the curl of Ango’s dark hair around his ears; the ends catching against the collar of his shirt; his jawline; the mole above his lip; the finger that tried to hold stray windblown strands out of his eyes while he maintained a firm grip on his coffee.

It had happened a lot lately, where he found that he couldn’t look away, that he didn’t want to.

As they slowed to a stop at a crosswalk, he tucked his chin against his chest, burrowing even further into the folds of his scarf, the warm air funneled upward briefly fogging the bottom of his glasses with each exhale. He thought that maybe he understood Oda’s earlier amusement now. Even without realizing it, it was Ango his eyes sought out first, like the presence of anyone else didn’t matter until he’d found him, it was Ango he turned to first, it was Ango he thought of first; it was always Ango, it was—

“I love you.”

“Hm?” Ango hummed, half turning to look back at him over his shoulder.

He blinked, blushing as his brain caught up with what he’d said. He hesitated, unsure of whether he wanted to repeat it louder or brush it off as nothing. Ango watched him half expectant, half confused, and Kunikida decided, _screw it._

Tugging his scarf down and holding it against his chest with one hand, he leaned down to kiss Ango chastely on the lips.

“Oh,” he breathed, slightly dazed, once Kunikida had straightened. The crowd began to move around them, and for a moment they paid it no mind until Ango blinked a few times, his gaze lingering a moment over Kunikida’s lips before he turned and rejoined the flow of people crossing the street.

As Kunikida hurried to follow after, readjusting his scarf, he caught the deep flush creeping up the back of Ango’s neck that he was trying to hide with his coat collar, a flush which surely wasn’t just from the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my reason for writing kuniango is out of spite at absolutely nothing coming up in the tag for it on tumblr because there's so little for them. But mostly I just really like this AU of my AU. I love this ship.


	13. kiyohyuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from very far away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this sitting in my documents for forever. I'd been meaning to write something to go before it, but today I decided that that's never happening and it's just fine jumping right in as it does. I don't even care anymore.
> 
> Anyway, this is a prequel to the first kiyohyuu in here (Chapter 7).

Hyuuga cut himself off, stifling a yawn.

“I guess I should let you go then, huh?”

He nodded a little, keeping his hand in place to hide the tail end of his yawn as he opened his eyes to blink drowsily at the apologetic-looking figure of Kiyoshi on the screen. “Yeah. Talk to you in a few days. Love you.”

Immediately his eyes widened in horror as his sleep-slowed mind caught up all at once to what had slipped out past his defenses lowered unintentionally in his drowsiness, and he pressed his hand harder over his mouth. He barely registered Kiyoshi blinking in surprise while he scrambled to find his mouse.

“Hyuu—”

As soon as he ended the call, he snapped his laptop shut and buried his head in his hands, rocking forward to press his knuckles onto the cool of the metal’s surface. “Shit, shit, shit!” breathed emphatically through clenched teeth. He’d fucked up, he’d never meant to say anything, he’d—

He blew out a long exhale to steady himself, then stood from his desk, letting his hands fall to his sides. There was nothing for it now but to just go to bed and hope that his best friend didn’t hate him now. He could think of some excuse later that would hopefully let this all blow over for the next time he spoke to Kiyoshi. If he could even face him again.

* * *

When he tentatively checked Skype the next morning, he sagged against his desk in relief at the single message he found from Kiyoshi:

 **Not An Iron Heart:  
** I love you too, Hyuuga! (*＾▽＾)／ ♡　　　　　[1:28 AM]


	14. Kuni + Yosano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as a thank you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to [Broken Ones by Jacquie Lee](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OBDHnPg1qh4) on repeat while writing this. It’s not necessary to listen to it while reading this, but it does kinda fit, and it’s a good song. Also it’s on [Annaliese’s Kunikisad playlist](https://play.spotify.com/user/annaliesevoci/playlist/05BrnSNHUEVUb5hmr8Kfvi?play=true&utm_source=open.spotify.com&utm_medium=open), if you haven’t listened to it yet. (It’s good. I cried. It’s also how I discovered this song.)

When someone knocked on his door on the evening of the second day that he’d skipped work, Kunikida pulled the pillow he was using out from under his head and pressed it against his ear, hoping to drown out the sound so he could pretend it didn’t exist, and silently willed whomever it was away. But his unwished-for visitor was not to be deterred by the unheard protests of a broken man, and their knocking only grew more insistent. He groaned, throwing the pillow down beside him on the couch, closing his eyes as he gathered the energy to sit up and push himself up to a standing position and drag himself over to the entryway.

He pulled open the door wearily, his half-formed scowl giving way to confusion when he saw who it was. “Yosano-sensei,” he blinked. Then, with a grimace: “Sorry for not coming in to work again today.”

She shook her head gently with a soft, sympathetic smile, then raised the plastic convenience store bag in her hand. “I brought ice cream,” she said. “Matcha for you and chocolate truffle for me. And I brought the entire first season of Star Trek.”

“Star Tre—”

“ _Please_ ,” Yosano said, rolling her eyes as she pushed past him into his apartment, “I know you’re a total Trekkie, ya big nerd.”

Kunikida’s lips curved up into a watery smile at that as he closed the door behind her and she slipped out of her heels. “Is it the original series?” he asked softly, unable to keep the hopeful note of excitement out of his voice.

“The one and only!” she grinned over her shoulder. She breezed into the living room and set the bag and her purse down on the coffee table, and as she retrieved Star Trek from her purse, Kunikida took a seat on the couch, fiddling with the remotes to get the DVD player ready for Yosano to pop in the first disc. He pulled the pillow that he’d discarded earlier into his arms, hugging it to his stomach and only half paying attention to what was on the TV screen.

Yosano started the first episode playing before she headed into the kitchen to grab spoons. “Hey, Kunikida?” she called; he half twisted in his seat to peer back at her. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

He frowned, averting his eyes downward. “I don’t… know…” he said. “I think I might have eaten a little yesterday.”

“Do you want me to make you something?”

Kunikida shook his head; he didn’t think he could stomach anything. He thought that even ice cream might be too much for him right now.

He heard her hum understanding as she pulled open the silverware drawer, and he shifted to settle more comfortably on the couch, squeezing the pillow closer to himself as he stared in the direction of the television screen. He didn’t realize that Yosano had returned and taken a seat beside him until a tub of ice cream was being held in front of him, a spoon lying atop the lid. He quirked an eyebrow at it. “I don’t think I can eat an entire gallon of ice cream.”

“Well not with _that_ attitude you can’t,” she said, and he could hear her teasing eye-roll in her tone.

His eyebrow climbed higher as he glanced toward her, the corners of his lips turning slightly upward in amusement, but he still accepted the ice cream despite his trepidation. He set the tub down on the pillow, peeled off the lid and set it on the table, then stared down at the creamy green dessert for a moment before taking a small bite after only a little hesitation; he’d eat a little bit, even if only to make Yosano happy and because he knew he had to eat at least _something_ —even if ice cream wasn’t exactly what his body needed right now.

Satisfied, Yosano sat back and dug into her own ice cream. Kunikida shifted subtly closer to her, and she leaned into his side, and he took comfort in her body heat that he could feel through the sleeves of their shirts. He tried to hide that he couldn’t spare much concentration or attention for the show—not even for the silly sixties special effects, or for Uhura or Spock, his favorite characters who had also sort of been his crushes ever since he’d first watched the series as a teenager—but Yosano probably already knew, had known from the beginning, and didn’t mind.

As the second episode began playing, Kunikida set his barely touched ice cream on the table before him and hugged the pillow to his stomach again, shivering a little as the cold spot chilled him through his shirt. Beside him, Yosano set aside her own dessert as well and turned toward him, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. He ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I wish they didn’t have to die,” he whispered.

“I know.”

His fingers tightened around the edges of the pillow until his knuckles drew almost bloodless. “I could have done something. If only I had realized sooner—”

“Kunikida,” Yosano said, gentle but firm, “you can’t save everyone. Some people just can’t be saved. You did everything you could.”

“But I could have saved _them_! I’m sure there was something I could have—”

“You couldn’t,” she cut him off; he clamped his jaw shut at the harshness behind her tone. She took a deep breath, the pain behind her eyes mirroring that which he felt, and continued softer: “I’ve lost people too. Patients who died anyway even though I did everything I could to save them.”

“But your ability—”

“ _Has its limits_. I can’t bring back the dead, and there are some things I just can’t heal, even in someone who’s dying. But I did everything I could. You can agonize afterwards about how it could have gone differently, what you could have done differently now that you have the clarity of hindsight, but what matters is that you did everything you could _in that moment_. There was nothing more you could have done.”

He swallowed, released his tight grip on the pillow and averted his eyes, deflated. He let himself sway under the gentle force exerted as she rubbed his shoulder consolingly.

“You can’t save everyone,” she repeated softly. “You’re only human.”

 _Yeah_. Kunikida met Yosano’s eyes again, his lips pursed in a wavering, watery almost-smile. “Thank you, Yosano-san,” he said, voice breaking on little more than a whisper, and buried his head in the crook of her neck as he drew her into a hug. “You’re like the sister I never had. I love you.”

“Love you too, li’l bro,” she said, pressing a kiss to his hair, and the dam inside him broke, his next breath tearing out of him in a sob, and he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer if he tried. She rocked gently as one hand found its way to the back of his head, held him close, and the other rubbed soothing circles on his back, and she murmured comforts and encouragements by his ear.

“Yes, that’s right, let it all out.”

(Tears don’t bring comfort to the dead; they comfort the living.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, I forgot about the pilot. There's Spock, but no one else from the main crew. Uh... I guess they're watching the first episode after the pilot, then...?  
> Update: I bought the complete first season, and it only has the second pilot (the "official" pilot, I guess), so it all works out.
> 
> I keep forgetting how young Kunikida actually is since he seems so much older much of the time. And god, he was so young back then. I mean, he's still young now, but he was 20 then. That's _my_ age. He doesn't deserve any of this.


End file.
